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‘Of course.‘ Adam shrugged. ‘I don’t spend all my time pretending to be other people. Sometimes I’m myself, and that self likes to find a light-skirt every now and then.’
‘And as for me, women love scars.’ Jim smiled. Marcus looked at the scar on his cheek, wondering what sort of woman could ever find that fascinating. ‘Some of them even manage to love the man underneath it.’
‘But—but have you ever loved one of them back?’ God, this was embarrassing. Alas, the alternative was talking to one of his titled friends about it—and in those circles love was even more embarrassing. ‘Loved them desperately?’
Adam coughed. ‘Well, no.’
‘I thought I did, once. But I was cunt-struck.’ Jim shrugged. ‘It happens. Are you sure that isn’t what’s happened to you?’
‘No.’ That was the hell of it. If all he cared about was Abigail’s body, the way she’d made him feel, then it wouldn’t be such agony to have fallen from her good opinion. It was the rest of her—her keen mind, her wit, her unique way of seeing the world—that had him feeling helpless. ‘It’s more than that.’
On reflection, perhaps he had been hasty to give everything up for lost. Hasty because he was scared—very scared—of how much he felt for Abigail Weeks, a woman he had known for such a brief time but more intensely than he had ever known anyone else. The minute she’d grown angry with him, he’d shrunk away for fear of hurting her.
But he’d hurt her anyway. Perhaps, in life, that was unavoidable when it came to people you… well…
‘I love her.’ He said it almost to himself. Adam and Jim looked at him with an air of grim understanding, as if they’d been waiting for him to make the leap of understanding. ‘How is that possible?’
‘What?’
‘Well, I—I’ve known her for such a short time.’
‘How does that make something less important?’
‘It… it doesn’t. I suppose.’
‘You don’t love a ruby more than a sapphire because you spent weeks planning to steal the ruby and a day planning to steal the sapphire.’ Adam shrugged. ‘At least, I never have. They’re beautiful at first look, and that’s it.’
It was true. Adam probably didn’t realise how elegant his metaphor had been—but then, perhaps he did. Marcus took a long, reflective sip of beer, more and more thoughts slowly but surely falling into their proper places.
As one, Adam and Jim took a gloomy sip of beer. Marcus stared at them, caught between a deep sense of awkwardness and an equally deep sense of their friendship somehow having gone beyond its usual limits.
They stayed in silence for some time, but the quiet was more companionable than usual. Eventually, with a small cough, Adam spoke again. ‘Look, Brooks. I may not know a lot about women—anything about women, really, apart from the stuff you’re not supposed to know. But I know you well enough, and I know you’ll be a bloody nightmare for a good year or two unless this damn thing’s resolved.’
‘It is resolved. She told me I was a liar and walked out of my life!’
‘Oh, nonsense.’ Jim shook his head. ‘It’s hard to stab a man once and kill him outright. One argument isn’t going to destroy love completely.’
It was a chilling analogy, but it worked. Marcus blinked. ‘So you’re saying that all is not lost?’
‘No. Probably not. You’re handsome enough and good with words—I reckon you could get a woman to forgive a lie like yours, strange as it is.’ Adam paused. ‘Even someone as special as you think Miss Weeks is.’
‘But how am I supposed to go to her?’
‘You’re a highwayman, aren’t you? At least, you are when you aren’t being a duke.’ Jim rolled his eyes, making it very clear which profession he considered more valuable. ‘Get on your bloody horse and ride to her.’
‘I don’t know where she is!’
‘And you don’t know which coach roads the fine lords and ladies of the ton will be on at certain hours until you ask. Find someone to ask.’ Jim turned to Adam with a sigh. ‘God Almighty, do we have to teach this one everything?’
‘We had to teach him how to hold a pistol properly. Apparently we have to teach him about women as well.’ Jim laughed. ‘Brooks, are you sure you know exactly how you’re meant to tup a--’
‘I don’t need any help from you two in that department.’ Marcus laughed, shaking his head as he drained his beer mug. Adam and Jim could be difficult, true—but they did make the impossible seem very much feasible. ‘I promise.’
‘Good. Now bugger off.’
‘Bugger off?’
‘I want to finish my drink in peace. We’ve told you what to do, now go and do it.’ Adam shook his head. ‘And when you come back to the Oak again, try to be less of a miserable bastard.’
